Hands
by highflyer101
Summary: He is directly behind her now-so close that he can smell bitter medicine on her hands. Hands that he wants to kiss, hands that he wants to have, hands that he wants to hold. He doesn't really expect her to let him, though. Not really. SxB in the concert.
1. Chapter 1

Tom Branson had made it clear to everyone that he was not going to attend the concert for the injured soldiers. He claimed it was because he simply couldn't support anyone who fought for the crown, even though all the staff already knew about his infatuation with Lady Sybil. No one said anything, at least not to him, about it and he planned to sit in his tiny cottage and write a few letters home. He'd been meaning to ask his mam something, anyways.

In the end, Anna makes him go. Anna, and the nettling desire to see _her. _He's perfectly aware that she won't say anything to him and that he'll spend the few hours wallowing in the corner. But he convinces himself that he can have fun with his friends and _without _Sybil, so he allows himself to be pulled into Lord Grantham's magnificently large library. Once, he'd been free to peruse through the volumes at his leisure, but after the count in Ripon, he couldn't risk meeting the Earl and feeling his hateful, cold glare on his back.

At the front of the room, Mary is cracking a joke about her and Edith's volatile relationship, one that elicits chuckles from the men in the audience who have known the sisters for a while. The music starts and everyone falls silent as a shaky, just-barely-in-tune voice drifts out of the oldest sister. It's the new Nurse Crawley that Tom pays attention to, though. He wonders if she cares that he's there, or if she notices that he's slowly inching over to her, almost closing the space between them. (Only literally, of course. It would be impossible to bridge their social gap neatly.)

She's directly in front of him now - so close that he can smell bitter medicine on her hands. Hands that he wants to kiss, hands that he wants to have, hands that he wants to hold. He doesn't expect her to let him, though. Not really. She sways gently in time to the music, and he remembers that she isn't a bad dancer. One day he'll be able to dance with her outside of the servant's ball, he tells himself. As voices chime into join Mary's, he concentrates on her soft humming. It's lyrical and entrancing. She has more talent than her sister, in his opinion. (Then again, he isn't exactly a disinterested party.)

The music comes clanging to a halt suddenly, forcing Tom to look away from Lady Sybil and recognize that Mr. Crawley has returned with William. He vaguely feels some happiness that they survived, only to have it consumed with a hot, raging jealousy he's never known before. He's been angry, sure. He even wished a member of Parliament dead once. But none of it compares with the furor of emotions when he sees how Mary's face lights up. Why does she get her happy ending? She deserves it the least out of all of them. Even Edith has done _something _to cheer the soldiers up, and Sybil has surrendered her entire life to nursing. So what makes the eldest Crawley get her prince back, safe and sound? He doesn't know how to calm the swirling pit of feeling within him: Love, for Sybil because she is so perfectly passionate and her eyes are so hypnotizing. Hate, for the same reasons. Sadness, because he wants so many things he knows he can't have. Anger, because he knows he deserves them. Confusion, because he thought falling in love involved two people but it now seems like he is alone in this.

The song picks up again, this time as a duet, and he distracts himself from his sudden loathing by staring at her. She looks so blissfully happy for her sister that it breaks his heart. She is selfless, feels everything for everyone, that she will not allow herself to feel anything on her own. He knows this is why she hasn't returned his declaration of love, he just knows it.

She looks breathtaking when she is that pleased. Her blue eyes sparkle, her lips draw themselves into the hugest grin imaginable, and her cheeks flush with joy. Her cascades of mahogany hair are tucked into her nurse's habit, but he can see their soft curl shaping the stiff fabric. It is like their love, he muses to himself. Hidden, but noticeable. Unlike her nurse's habit, though, the mask of indifference she hides her emotions with does not belong there. It doesn't belong because she belongs with him, in Ireland, and because she said she didn't care what her parents and peers thought of her. Her denial of their relationship proves that she cares very much indeed. It matters to her that she have a home to return to and a family to embrace her. It has become a part of her, so that she doesn't even realize it. Now, her mind is simply combating the idea of change.

He wants to tell her that he feels the same way. His family certainly won't be pleased if he elopes with the daughter of his employer. They are alike in that respect. They are alike in many respects, really. Both idealistic rebels, both stubborn, both fierce.

The only difference is she can see a future without him, while he cannot see one without her.


	2. Surprise!

**A/N: Hello again, dear readers. Since all my readers have always been so loyal to me, I wanted to let you know that I am officially retiring from FanFiction so I can work with more of my own characters. I also wanted to let you know about a story I'm writing on my Wattpad account (apprenticeofathena) so that if you like the stories I've written on here, you can look into it. It's a mystery, by the way, called Politically Incorrect. Here's a summary:**

****_Stella Harvey is America's sweetheart. At least, that's what she's been told. In a tragic accident, Stella lost the past five years of her memory, meaning she doesn't remember her dad's new wife, doesn't recognize her new makeover, and certainly doesn't have the slightest clue that her dad is the President of the United States of America. In an effort to remember, Stella begins to search for clues about the five years she's missing. Clues that lead her to shocking revelations about her past and even more questions. When did Stella become popular? What happened to her life in New York? And, most importantly, was the accident really an accident?_

__**If you're interested, it would mean SO much to me if you could check it out and comment. I posted a link to my Wattpad profile on my wall and would be so honored if you would check it out. Thank-you so much guys! Obviously I've never met any of you be for, but I'm sure gonna miss you now that I'm leaving FF! Mwa, mwa! **


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